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Question? What question of his? I’d missed something. When he’d entered me, my mind had plummeted into arousal space.
“I’m sorry Sir, I forgot your question. Punish me if you wish to.”
His reply was incredulous. “You’re asking for punishment?”
And that had hit the heart of the matter. I hesitated then blurted it out. “Yes, Sir. And I wanted to ask you something too.”
“What?”
He stayed dead still while he waited.
I crammed shut my eyes, wanting him to shove his cock in again, but my gentle bowing of my ass earned me only a smack. Having to say this was excruciating. I held my breath a second then plunged onward. “Can you hurt me, please Sir?”
I blushed, the heat flaming across my cheeks. Thank god, I was face first in the sheets, staring into the blindfold.
“You want pain?”
“Yes.” My affirmation squeaked out. I’d never asked him this and it seemed so wrong.
“Next time, ask me before I’m about to explode in your hot little cunt. Before I’m inches deep in your sopping wet pussy. Then I will. I’ll bruise you so hard your screams when you come will scare away the damn birds in the trees.”
The bed shifted and I felt his breath on my neck and he bit me there, hard enough to make me gasp. Hard enough that my pussy compressed onto his cock. Delicious pain.
“I felt that, little slut.”
Then he pounded me into the bed with his thrusts, ignoring my cries, which only made it more delicious. He came partly inside me before he pulled out. The rest of his cum splattered on my back and my hands where the cuffs held them behind me.
I lay with my eyelids at half-mast, staring into the darkness of the cloth, feeling his solidly muscled arm draped over my back. When he moved in closer, I was pinned by the weight of his leg also, with his chin beside my ear. His inhalations and exhalations warmed my hair.
Oh god. This I loved. I didn’t care whether he made me come or not. I just wanted to be his after he fucked me. I released a long joyous sigh.
*****
I made sure not to call her meisie after that. It hadn’t been right even though the revelation of her asking for pain had startled me. I experimented and made her beg for pain at least half the time before I gave it to her. It worked. Sometimes she begged for it on her knees, the need intense.
Please Sir, hurt me. Those words had such power. I’d never been so hard.
Pain and pleasure had become entwined for her, almost inseparable. Perhaps that and dominance had been the missing ingredients for her past lovers. Whatever, I had the magic. I bet Merlin never used canes, whips, or needles. Needles almost became her favorite, sending her flying so easily.
The night I made a train track of them snake from her nipple to her mons, she blissed out entirely. With some candles for lighting up my needy victim, I took a gallery of pictures of her naked, needle-decorated body.
Such a tasty little girl she was when she begged.
Begging for cock was the obvious next step. She took to that like a duck to water. Then, of all things, she asked me to fuck her mouth. I found out that making her drool and cry a few tears turned her on even more.
Was I transforming her into my sex toy, or my perfect lover?
She wasn’t a robot, not by any stretch of my imagination. Not when I leaned over her after coming, with her sweaty and semi-comatose from orgasming, her hair tangled and thrown in a crazy halo about her head. But I guess she’d had nothing from her other lovers, while I served her up a feast.
The day arrived, a month after that first meal, and Jurgen and Glass and I sat down at the dinner table. It should have been a celebratory feast but it felt like a wake.
We were letting her go, with that lethal clause...if she truly walked out, she died.
I’d left her here alone, numerous times, while on jobs for Glass, locked up mostly, though sometimes with instructions for one or the other of the men to care for her. I trusted them in combat. I trusted them with her. Except now.
I’d taken her to the entry foyer, uncollared, uncuffed, clothed in a cute red dress and with underwear on for the first time in days, with more clothes in a small suitcase and some money. I’d kissed her and told her she could leave if she wished to. Now, we watched her on CCTV. If I had to sum her up, out there in the hall, it would be small, alone, and pretty.
And fucking mine. What was I doing?
